


Differently Delusional

by dagas isa (dagas_isa)



Category: Nana
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Reunions, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagas_isa/pseuds/dagas%20isa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nana doesn't think too hard about why exactly she needs this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Differently Delusional

Nana still plays in smoke filled rooms. The sound is more acoustic, yeah, and the crowd is smaller than it was when Blast played, but she doesn't too much. She mostly sings at this one club in London—lots of dykes there—and has something of a following, including even the occasional groupie.

It’s not like love was exactly picky when choosing what gender to screw her over with, so if she happens to get her jollies with a few female fans who shyly approach her after a show, what difference does it make? She drinks just enough to make the fact that the girl she chooses is almost always the most femme or the straight girl who isn’t so straight or the most clingy and awkward—in other words, the most Hachi-like—go sailing straight over her head. She wants to fuck; they want to touch a star, win-win.

Nana takes them to a secluded corner and makes them suck the black strap-on she keeps just for these encounters. Then, she takes them to the old sofa in the backroom, or the closet that passes for her dressing room and bends them over and gives them a good time until they’re left shaking in the knees. If the fuck doesn’t do it, the touches afterwards do. She might not care to learn their names and distinguishing features, but it’s vital that they enjoy it and twice as important that Nana not question why that is.

It’s only on the one night that a woman resembling Hachi comes in that Nana wonders if perhaps her pre-show drinking has gotten a touch out of hand because she knows that can't be the real Hachi sitting in the back and watches Nana's performance with a mixture of discomfort and enchantment. After the show, she’s the one who greets Nana backstage. Of course Nana wants her, even if the reasons are those she never consciously admits. Nana practically shoves her fan into the closet and shuts the door behind them.

Nana puts her cock on and pushes her imitation Hachi to her knees. Nana's fingers press against the back of the fake Hachi's head, bringing her mouth right on the silicone phallus, and Nana rocks against it, enjoying both the sight of the Hachi-like head down there and the pressure on her clit that the strap-on gives her . When she tires of that, Nana continues through the motions, grabbing her replacement Hachi and leaning her over the sink. The imitation Hachi’s jeans and panties fall around her ankles, and Nana grabs for the breasts underneath the slinky top to pull Hachi down onto her. One hand descends between Hachi's legs and explores, while Nana pounds her. Hachi is warm; not just her pussy but all of the skin pressed against Nana.

As Nana settles into her pace, her imitation Hachi begins to moan.

“That’s good, huh?” Nana whispers in Japanese. Her mouth kisses a line down Hachi’s neck.

“Un.” The voice sounds familiar, so much like the real Hachi’s that Nana has to wonder even through her haze if this is the real one. Nana pulls her fan closer, and her fingers speed up the rhythm on the imitation Hachi’s clit. The hand on Hachi’s breast squeezes tighter, and finger nails dig deeper into the areola. Against Nana’s palm, Hachi’s nipple hardens and the woman beneath her—whoever she is—shakes. Nana’s grip tightens as she loses herself in the fantasy she's had for years. “I won’t let you go, Hachiko.”

When they finally separate, Nana remembers her composure. She flips her skirt back down, and turns to leave while Hachi (or her stand-in) pulls her jeans back up.

"Thanks."

Nana always tries to leave it at that while her fan collects her head, but this time her groupie follows her out of the dressing room, and when Nana sits down outside for a lonely post-coital smoke, this one follows her out, and for an instant everything clears up in Nana's head. The face has matured a bit, but everything else fits well enough.

"Hachi…"

The groupie nods.

The rest of the night passes in the blur from there.

\--

When Nana wakes up—or at least becomes lucid again, she notices immediately that the room is simply too bright and clean to be her flat. Hachi, the real Hachi, waits at her bedside with a glass of water and some aspirin in her hand, reminding Nana that her head is pounding.

"Good morning!" Hachi tries too hard to be cheerful.

Nana grumbles a "Morning" and washes the pills down with the water. Her head clears up, and what's left is the huge question left unasked from the night before: What now? This wasn't how they were supposed to reunite—they weren't supposed to reunite, and now that they did…how could Nana fuck this up so bad in the first five minutes? "Hachi…about last night…I'm…"

Hachi sits on the bed. Her half-bare thigh rests right next to Nana's hand. She's tempted. Nana can regret last night to the end of time, but it's not stopping her from wanting to lift Hachi's nightie up and devour her. It's a mistake she knows, but one she wants to keep making.

"You've been suffering, haven't you?" Hachi kisses Nana's forehead and then her lips.

This is wrong, Nana thinks, even as her hand reaches up and pulls Hachi on to her lap and caresses the nightgown up inch-by-inch. They need to slow down and talk. She pulls back to find Hachi staring at her. "We should talk…this is messed up…" Nana's words contradict her instinct, which tells her that she's exactly where she's wanted to be these past years. Fucked up or not, this is where she belongs.

"We'll talk later," Hachi whispers, as she brings Nana's face towards her.

Nana still doesn't believe there won't be hell to pay afterwards, but she pulls Hachi closer to her and repeats, "Later" as though maybe that won't ruin everything.

Now, though, now is good.


End file.
